The Princess and the Dragon
by ViciousVigilante
Summary: This was orginally written for a "kill the princess, save the dragon" short story contest. It is set some time after the reclaiming of Gnomeregan and tells a story of an engineer chasing the Gnomeregan "princess" and her mighty "Dragon". Enjoy and review!


- Ziks, my dear colleague, you should see it! No, you just have to see it! - professor Gelbrit, excited beyond measure, practically burst into the ward, waving some folder.

Ziks Gyrocompass sat up unwillingly in his bed. This did not cause pain like it had a couple of weeks ago – probably the senior engineer had simply gotten used to lying in bed. Besides, the professor had distracted him from thinking over... Ziks himself already could not remember what. He winced displeasedly and looked at the professor, who, it seemed, was about to jump out of his mantle – so frightened the renowned scientist was.

- This, colleague, was found in Thermalplugg's safe! - the professor thumped the folder right on the blanket which made it open somewhere on a middle page

Ziks glanced with genuine interest on the sheets containing some engineering drawing. Than he wetted his fingers thoughtfully with saliva and turned the page. His eyes went round... on the next page the engineer's mouth fell open. Lines, figures and different signs indecipherable to mere mortals at last formed a picture in his head – a picture that was inconceivable, incredible – just impossible! Ziks could not believe his eyes. Not reaching the end of the folder the gnome sprung p from his bed as he was, in pyjamas – sprightly, as if he'd never gotten a blow of monstrous force from a protectron – snatched the collar of the professor's robe and screamed right in his face:

- What is it?! What the Fel is it?!

Gelbrit started back as if he was expecting the engineer to literally scratch the answer out of him. - Here... It's written – he squeezed out at last, sweeping the pack of sheets to the first page.

- Semi-automatic multi-purpose aircraft "Dragon-2901"... - Ziks read, hardly moving his lips. Columns of figures ran in front of his dimmed gaze. Length... wingspan... carrying capacity... battle load... Those figures seemed unnatural, otherwordly... Ziks blinked his eyes, shook his head – the delusion didn't vanish, but a salvational thought appeared.

- But this is just a project, isn't it, professor? - feeble hope was discernible in Gyrocompass's voice.

- No, and that's the point! While clearing the city from the last troggs, we found a tunnel into the mountains and beyond it – a gigantic hangar! And also... there was no trace of the head developer of the project – and, as her second employment, the daughter of the damned dictator, Fizzlie Vulcanization – they also called her the princess of Gnomeregan – the scientist pulled a face as if he had toothache. - Do you realize where this is going?

Ziks did realize. He realized well what one could do possessing such a monstrous machine... Sticky horror slowly slipped into the gnome's heart. The horror smelt of blood...

- But where could she escape? Do you have at least some data?

- We can only suppose – the professor frowned. - Our submarines in the ocean did not spot anything, as well as the forces in the Gorge, nothing of this kind was seen neither in Stormwind nor in Kul Tiras... There were no reports of the apparatus neither from Kharanos nor from Anvilmar...

- That means she couldn't have flown far? - Ziks was happy to thear that, even thaty he didn't know why. At first id did mean that the horrible menacr was lurking somewhere near... but, on the other hand, this "Dragon", which the engineer hadn't seen "in flesh" but imagined clearly from the drawings, had some mysterious attractiveness... he just wanted to see this miracle with his own eyes.

- So it is, as far as we know... - agreed Gelbrit. - Most probably "Dragon" landed in the mountains. Probably there was some failure or she ran out of fuel... The nastiest thing is that we cannot search for it from the air – or we shall scare off "the princess". It means that...

- We have to send an expedition! - Ziks understood right away where the scientist was driving at.

- Exactly! - the professor affirmed his guess. - And you were named its member as an aeronautics specialist! You already leave tomorrow, the doctor said you were quite well.

Ziks felt his heart beat faster. From the childhood he'd had an irrepressible passion for flight, he used to watch the birds frisking in the skies for long times... The way to success was long, he did not become a pilot due to an inborn heart disease – but one could hardly find a better constructor among the gnomes. His gyrocompasses were installed almost on every alliance machine – and it was not the only "air" invention of the engineer, just the best.

- I'll leave the materials to you so you could get to know them better... - the professor, having shaken Ziks's hand passionately, was about to leave the room when suddenly he stopped and, turning back his head, smiled watrmly and said:

- Good luck...

- Gvaldr, alpinist.

- Balfur, sniper.

- Grenbrand, pilot.

The first two fellow travelers were just your normal dwarfs, but the third... Ziks looked into his sky-blue eyes, ran a glance across the row of stripes on his overalls – this was enough to realize that he was not an ordinary pilot, but a real Ace. There were legends of such folk: they melded into a single entity with the machine, came alive out of an unequal dogfight with a pack of gargoyles, rammed акщыецнкьы in the air managing to survive and even land the plane... and also could sense the enemy's machinery on land and in the air from many kilometers away. The engineer quickly guessed why Grenbrand was made a member of the expedition: without him they wouldn't ever find the apparatus in the enormous mountain mass.

The march went calmly... and was boring. The four, clad in white camouflage cloaks, moved through the mountains, indiscernible on the background on the white snows, sparkling so bright they caused a pain in the eyes – Ziks adjusted his oculars more tightly. The dwarfs tramped swiftly – the engineer hardly kept up with them, mincing along funnily and swearing under his breath. Grenbrand led them confidently – as if a bloodhound hot on the trail. In dangerous places the travelers tied a rope around their waists, climbed the sheer cliffs and getting over precipices, steadfastly following Gvaldr's instructions. A couple of times troggs, attracted by easy prey, rushed at the little detachment – here Balfur's powerful optics saved them. In other respects – nothing out of the ordinary.

During halts the dwarfs sat around the fire and discussed their own topics, sipping beer they'd managed to drag by the sweat of their brow even here. Ziks didn't even try to harken to their talks: he knew Dwarven quite well, but that was technical Dwarven. The engineer understood perfectly the works of their scientists, but the talks of simple Magni's subjects... This left sitting, time after time taking sips of strong brandy from the flask and indulging in his only amusement: studying that very folder.

Ziks quite quickly found out how the fruit of the "murky leper genius" actually worked – although, reading into the drawings and notes he every now and then gasped with surprise and bewilderment. No, most of the units were almost standard – but some technical solutions could be devised only by a toxin-corroded mind. And also... in all the drawings, generally bare project execution records, calculations... There was something strange present in the, and Ziks almost saw it – like connoisseurs of painting see the soul of the painter beyond a set of colors, silhouettes and images.

He was afraid to confess to himself that he saw what he saw, since it was at least strange – and, besides, was not based on any precise calculations. Moreover, not only a dwarf, but, for instance, even a robot designer would never grasp what Ziks was suspecting... Even he felt just interest towards his models, sometimes – admiration, rarely, when he could not bring in anything principally new – despise. But such a feeling...

The engineer dropped his head overwhelmed by the understanding that fell upon him. And a moment later jerked it up, attracted by the dwarfs' excited cries. Far ahead, somewhere above, something was shining in the sun. Ziks screwed the oculars – no, this couldn't be a mistake. Looked like one could see only the edge of the hull from here – but even this was enough. Their goal seemed to be quite close...

In reality the four spent almost another whole day and night until the narrow path leading to the flat top of Khaz-Bagash (this way - "Khaz's Head" - Gvaldr called it), widened, the slope became less steep, and the titanic apparatus loomed ahead again.

And then robots literally rained down from the plateau. "Capable of carrying up to ten units of robotized guard" - Ziks was too late to recall the "little detail" that had slipped from his mind while he was vainly trying to solve the princess's riddle. While he was wadling with his rucksack, literally tearing out of it a remote control he'd taken along "to be on the safe side", the action unfoled faster and faster. The protectrons, only several units as it turned out, swiftly ran up to the dwarfs, leaving two on the slope, shot into important joints by Balfur's precise shots, and engaged in melee with them. Gvaldr wa beating off the two mechanoids that were pressing on him with an ice axe, Grenbrand was retreating to the rock, holding the enmy at distance with a pair of short blades, and Balfur handled the leather-cased metal buttstock, having already smashed the icular of one of the robots and now aiming at the other. Ziks hardly had time to adjust the remote when he looked a little higher... A Protectron Mark II, which remained on the summit of the slope, armed with two machine guns, was already starting to spin the barrels. Any second it could be too late. The engineer squealed hysterically "Down!" and pressed at several necessary buttons with all his might.

Looked like this time the self-witted remote decided to work. The bursts swept right across the frames of the enemy robots, piercing the casing, tearing out intestines, ploughing the snow at the gnome's legs. A few seconds later everything was over. Balfur, lifting at last his face, quickly snatched the rifle, and a shot rang out. Not even looking how the machine-gunner tumbled down to its side, the sniper rose, shook snow of his beard and cast a respectful glance at the engineer. The dwarfs didn't utter a word, but Ziks well understood that they saw in him a comrade-in-arms, if not a savior. This was inspiring... and would be even more inspiring if everything in his soul wouldn't boil in some sweet anticipation.

- Faster, before she collect herself! - all the four rushed up the slope. Gvaldr, limping at a leg cut by a robot's nipper, hardly kept up with the three others. At last he reached the plato – and froze together with the rest in dumb admiration.

The "Dragon", its sides reflecting the cold mountain sun, was magnificent. Sewn from enormous steel plates, the wings, each almost bigger than a wing of the Ironforge Gate, were spread in a proud span – and from beneath them looked innumerable machine guns and menacing cannons, in their caliber resembling those of a ship. Under the wings as well lurked horrible enormous rockets and bombs – each not smaller than a goblin reconnaissance zeppelin. The blades of the gigantic propellers looked like they'd frozen for a mere second, ready to raise the monster into the air any moment. The cockpit crowned the picture, not inferior in size to a rich house and equipped with a pair of portholes, now batten down with steel plates. The wheels of the undercarriage, which seemed as if they could crush a siege tank, sank into the ground for almost a meter, having ploughed furrows stretching behind the hull, each fit for a country road... The view that opened to the travelers was so astounding that it was quite long before they noticed a tiny gnome female figure, crooked at the foot of the colossus.

Ziks moved his eye to the girl right when she, tearing herself away from a part of the mechanism lying in front of her, rose her gaze... There were no glasses at all on the princess's (and that, no doubt, was she) face – and the engineer started back, meeting the maddened sparkle of acid-green eyes. Her face, disfigured with mutation, still bore some twisted charm. Green skin, sunken cheeks, sharp chin, earthy-coloured, matted hair interwoven with scraps of cords – ziks, no matter how hard he tried, could not move his eyes away. And Fizzlie (for some reason the engineer recalled that that was the "princess"'s name) blinked and suddenly dashed like a green flash of lightning to a piece of cloth not far away on which a small device was lying...

Balfur, regaining his senses, jerked up his rifle and pulled the trigger, almost not aiming. The dwarf was a trifle of a second late: the princess of Gnomeregan had time to sink as far as it would go a big scarlet button on the remote – and fell forward, sprinkling the snow with splashes of black blood. The sniper missed the head, granting the gnome another several seconds. This was enough for her to cast one last glance at her brainchild – a glance full of pain, despair and – ziks could swear – something else.

And the steel mountain shook, awakening from the sleep... dozens of lights lit on the wings, visible even now, in broad daylight. The engine made a deafening roar, heating, the colossal cannons tossed and turned, the plates at the portholes rose with a metal clang. The four looked at the awakening monster charmedly, charmed, like rabbits at a boa. And then bronze tubes protruded from the portholes. "Drift sights" - Ziks realized, his blood curdling. The inexorable eye is about to be cast at them. And there is no strength to run – and you can't hear the clatter of your own teeth...

Suddenly the tube, not turning another several degrees to the dead-frightened gnome and dwarfs, stopped. Ziks at first didn't understand at all what had happened – and then followed with his eyes what the tube stared at. Actually, he'd thought so – the gaze of the gigantic, equal to a human head in diameter lens froze at the little body, the snow around which was black of what replaced blood in the lepers.

Suddenly a horrible, unbearable crackle pierced the ears. Flame came out of some orifices of the mechanism, thousands of electrical sparks flew out, the colossus was already not shaking – trembling. Then – an even more, as it seemed, horrible crackle, as if a demon tore the sky in two – and the ears received an even more powerful blow of silence – absolute, all-absorbing, stiffening... A minute or so had passed before Grenbrand broke it.

The Ace stood straight, as if not remembering his horror. Slowly and silently he rose his eye at the enormous hull and the lifelessly hanging sight tube and, seemingly making a huge effort to unstick his heavy lips, said:

- He is dead.

- You're kidding, aren't ya? - Balfur drawled distrustfully. Gvaldr, screwing up his face, as if of a too bitter slop, spat in to the snow. Ziks just sighed deeply...

He knew it himself.

From the report on the preliminary expertise of the object "Dragon":

...

Casing – normal condition.

Engine – normal condition.

Armament – normal condition.

Automation system – destroyed with an electrical pulse of unknown origin. The level of damage – 97%. The approximate list of damages:

...

Conclusion: the damages of the unique in its way automation system as well as control systems are irreversible. The object is beyond reconstruction. It is recommended to remove the armament and intact units and after that to smelt the hull.

Footnote: In my opin...

Ziks stopped short in midword. For a minute or so he sat, gazing motionlessly right in front of him, and then put the phonoscript's horn aside. The engineer took a penknife, pulled the sheet out of the device and carefully scraped off the upper layer of the paper – there was no trace of the last line. Ziks signed the report in a bold hand, shoved it into the pneumopost tube and pulled the lever. The sheet disappeared in the bowels of the post labyrinth, that had recommenced operation only recently.

Senior Engineer Ziks Gyrocompass knew that he'd done the right thing. Not because his "considerations" would be put to laughter. It was just that the curious gnome had a gut feeling that somethings should be kept secret. Forever...

"Forever..." - rushed through Ziks's head, when he put his hand into his pocket again. Having glanced to the sides furtively, making sure there wasn't anyone in the office, he pulled a small black box out of it. The engineer was looking at it for the umpteenth time – and still couldn't believe his eyes.

It was just your ordinary remote, rectangular, speckled with a dozen different buttons. Nothing out of the ordinary – if not for that very button, still sunken into the case. The only unsigned button... A button of strange shape – the shape of a big scarlet heart.


End file.
